


Dance of the Cuttlefish

by Arathergrimreaper



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Animal Death, Blood, Blood and Injury, Multi, Omega Verse, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:21:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28258359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arathergrimreaper/pseuds/Arathergrimreaper
Summary: Did you know there's a species of cuttlefish where smaller, less aggressive males pose as females and flirt with bigger, more aggressive males to gain mating access to females? Now you do. Nature is amazing. And far more gay and gender-fucked than we like to admit. I swear this has something to do with Dragon Age I just forgot what.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Mahariel, Zevran Arainai/Warden
Kudos: 3





	Dance of the Cuttlefish

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have been working on this for like a year or two now...like I don't have enough, right?  
> This is a concept I have wanted to play with for a while. This is purely for funsies and I'm not super committed to it, but wanted to post it since I also want to read it and it doesn't exist. I am also writing and formatting mostly on my phone so if it comes out fucky, that is why.
> 
> Why yes, there is a playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3LQRBLt8BRPlUJ9U9wjaha?si=nXC68tWeQbSTrc5d7aAT7Q

The scent creeped through the sleepy camp with the easy grace of a pickpocket in the misty dawn. Citrus-sweet and earthy, it was the alluring aroma of an unbonded Omega in heat.

Wynne was the first to spring into action. Despite her advanced age, the Omegan mage burst from her tent, hair unbound, in her flowered nightdress. She sniffed frantically at each tent and its occupant until she finally came across the one the scent was emitting from: Ara'nathen's.

Shock was swiftly replaced with determination when the others began to grumpily emerge to see where the scent was coming from as well.

"Stay back, or I'll give you the worst case of warts you've ever seen." she vowed, staff held defensively before her as she stood in front of the young warden's tent, the very picture of protective older Omega.

"What are you on about now, Granny?" Oghren demanded through a yawn as he crawled out of his tent. "Pantin' Omega or not, ain't nobody here willing to breed you except maybe Chantry Boy and that blasted elf. "

"Must you be repulsive so early in the morning?" asked Alistair, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he poked his head out of his own tent, hair rumpled.

Wynne summoned an ice spell in her hand when it seemed Oghren was about to advance and chucked it down at his bare feet where it burst and spread. The dwarf had the good sense to dodge backwards before it could freeze him to the spot.

"Whoa, watch it!" he barked, glaring at Wynne.

"Sorry to interrupt, but what exactly is going on?" Leliana asked with a yawn of her own as she moved toward her, still pajamaed and eyes barely open.

"The old witch's gone crazy, that's what!"

Leliana looked to Wynne, who smiled, apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Leliana. You may go back to bed if you like. I just want to make sure Ara'n is safe."

"Normally, I would not mind being awoken by a buxom woman of great power and authority," Zevran said, appearing next to Oghren so quietly as to make them all jump, "but would anyone care to explain why we are all standing out here in our night clothes? The sun is still rising."

"You look more dressed than any of us. You stay up all night, plotting our deaths?" Alistair asked, eyes full of mistrust as they regarded the Antivan.

"Alistair, be grateful it is so cold here because that is the only reason I am wearing any clothes at all." Zevran laughed with a wink, pushing his loose hair back over his shoulder.

"Didn't need _that_ image." Alistair groaned, the Alpha's cheeks reddening.

"She's finally lost it," Oghren said, gesturing to Wynne, who hadn't backed down.

"I most certainly have not 'lost it', as you put it. I am merely being careful. If Ara'n is indeed an Omega and hiding it, then the last thing they will want is one of you Alphas stomping in there and laying a claim where none belongs. Shale, dear?"

"Oh goody," the golem sighed deeply from across the clearing, "I was hoping to be included in whatever issues the squishy ones have today."

"Would you please guard Ara'n for me? I need to fetch some supplies for them from my tent." Wynne asked. Her eyes never left Oghren, who was eyeing Ara'n's tent with bleary confusion more than interest.

"I don't take _orders_ from the Elder Mage. Or anyone, for that matter."

"Will you do it for their sake, please? I don't know if you understand dynamics, but they are quite vulnerable at the moment."

"So, it's the Dalish one then?" Oghren asked, shaking his head and stroking his beard thoughtfully, "never struck me as an Omega."

"That's because they _aren't_." Alistair said through a jaw-cracking yawn, "I mean, they can't be. The Grey Wardens don't recruit Omegas. Not even for a Blight."

“ _Smells_ like Omega to me."

"Ara'nathen is certainly full of surprises," came a voice that made them all turn.

Morrigan stood apart from them, her hair also down and she wore a strangely patterned nightdress. It appeared stitched together from various scraps of black cloth and tapered from the hip in such a way to show a nearly indecent amount of leg for Wynne's sensibilities.

"Keep back, Morrigan. I don't recall even going _near_ your tent."

"You didn't. I decided to come out for some fresh air and caught a wonderful sniff of something intriguing is all."

"Shale, please?" Wynne begged, glaring at Morrigan.

"If it means the Elder Mage will finally stop bothering me, then I suppose I have little choice."

Stone crunched as Shale drew near, but Ban'aar, who had never much cared for the golem, sprang from Ara'n's tent, growling more fiercely than a bear. It scared them all anew. Even Wynne stumbled out of the mabari's path.

"It appears I needn't have worried." she gasped, clutching the area above her heart and smiling at the dog. "Good girl, Ban'aar."  
Ban'aar paused in her growling to pant amiably up at her before baring her teeth once more at Shale, who was already returning to her spot by Bodahn and Sandal huffily.

As Wynne bustled to her tent, most of the group turned bewildered glances at Alistair.

"What?"

"Did you know Ara'n is an Omega?" Leliana asked him.

"No! As far as I know, Omegas aren't allowed in the Wardens because of. . .ah. . ."

"Because of what?" Morrigan prompted, tone coy.

"Well, you know!" he gestured to Ara'n's tent, face going an even deeper shade of red, "It could cause problems. Especially _population_ problems. Warden Omegas have low fertility _except_ with the darkspawn. Those opportunists are always hunting for broodmothers."

The group gave a collective shudder.

"So anyone who has heats isn't allowed?" Zevran asked, looking intrigued.

"That's what I was always told anyway." Alistair said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sten finally stepped fully dressed from his tent, looking stern as always, but he was nodding.

"That is as it should be. Omegas are too valuable and vulnerable to send to the enemy. If this were Par Vollen-"

"It isn't," Morrigan said boredly.

"Not to be disrespectful, Sten, but does Ara'n come across as a 'vulnerable' Omega to you?" Leliana cut in. "I've seen them take down an ogre almost by theirself. To be honest, if Ara'n wanted to kill any of us, the only one they would have trouble with is Shale."

"Hey, I ain't losing to an Omega, girl," Oghren growled, glaring at her, "Grey Warden or no."

"Really? Is that why Ara'n had you on your back in the dirt in under a minute sparring yesterday?"

Oghren's jaw cracked audibly and he stomped back into his tent, grumbling something about "crazy mages and Omegas".

Everyone else went about their morning routines and prep of the fish caught the night before, trying to ignore the smell of salt limes mixed with the herbal undercurrent that was Ara'n's heat scent. Wynne reappeared just as breakfast was finished cooking and entered Ara'nathen's tent under Ban'aar's watchful eye, dressed, with vials and wax paper-wrapped herbs in her arms.

"Leliana, Sten, I may require your assistance later. As Betas, I mean."

Sten grunted, but gave no other further indication of what he thought about the matter. Leliana nodded.

"Of course," she said, pausing while loading up her plate. "What about Zevran? He could prove useful as well."

Wynne gave the Beta in question a concerned look. Zevran stared back, attempting to look as innocent as possible. Wynne finally sighed.

"It isn't ideal, but I suppose we will just have to make do. Any frisky business and I'll freeze you where you stand. Ara’n is in no state to consent."

Zevran gave her a hurt look. "Do you really think so little of me, Wynne?"

"I don't know what to think, to be honest. If you genuinely wish to help, however, I would appreciate it."

"Of course," Zevran said, parroting Leliana.

"Very good." Wynne said with a small nod before ducking into the tent once more.

After that, it was, mostly, a regular day. They had quickly come to the decision that their search for the Urn of Sacred Ashes would have to be delayed until Ara'n's heat had broken, but none were truly that upset about having more time to prepare themselves. Wynne must have silenced the tent so no sound could escape as they heard nothing despite her coming and going frequently. The spell had certainly not dulled the scent of Omega, though, and the Alphas, for all their respect for the younger Warden, were growing uncomfortable the longer they were around it.

Occasionally, Wynne called out to Leliana, Sten, or Zevran to stand guard while she took a rest to stretch her legs or relieve herself away from camp. None of them were bothered by the pheromones, true, but couldn't help the curiosity they felt. A young, Dalish _Omega_ leading the charge against the fifth Archdemon? It was certainly one for the history books.

In the late afternoon, Ara'n surprised everyone by emerging from their tent in a flurry of limbs, shirt in their arms and irritated as they slapped the flap out of their way. Ban'aar was hot on their heels and Wynne followed close behind, clucking disapprovingly like a mother hen. Even Oghren held back his usual comments upon seeing how miserable and pissed off the Warden appeared.

"You can't just go wandering about the forest alone, Ara'n. It isn't safe!" Wynne fretted, looking about two seconds away from stunning them just to keep them in the campsite.

"Wynne, I’m _Dalish_ . I was born in the forest,” Ara’n snapped, throwing on their shirt but leaving it undone as they drew a knife from where it was strapped to their thigh, “I want pheasant. I'm _getting_ pheasant."

Before they could take another step towards the edge of the trees, Oghren was on his feet and striding past them.

"Stay put," the warrior growled, as he made his way into the underbrush. They all heard him mutter, "The blazes is a _pheasant_?" as he disappeared from view.

"We'll find one." Alistair promised, oddly breathless and eyes shining as he pursued the dwarf.

" _One_?" Morrigan scoffed, gently brushing past Ara'n to follow them both. "If _one_ is all you aim for you may as well give up now."

There was a beat of silence as the three disappeared into the foliage. Then,

"Where the fuck are they off to in such a hurry?"

"To get your pheasant for you. Come sit down and leave it to them," Leliana said with a knowing smile, patting the spot next to her.

"I can get it." Ara'n insisted. Annoyance lay bare on their tattooed face, but they made their way over to the fire, sheathing the knife as they did so, "Don't know why everyone's making such a damned fuss. This is hardly the first heat I've had and, thanks to whatever that sludge you made me drink earlier was, I'm completely lucid right now. "

"That may be so," Wynne conceded, tiredly, "but you didn't tell any of us of your true dynamic and we've all been at a loss for what to do to aid you with it."

"I didn't tell you because I figured it wouldn't matter once we got back to Denerim and I picked up more suppressant. I just cocked up my timing is all."

They dropped down beside Leliana, who stroked their back the way she usually did when they were upset and Ara’n marginally relaxed.

"You've been _suppressing_ this whole time?" Wynne asked, her tone taking on the firmness she usually reserved for lecturing.

"Of course," Ara'n cast a withering glance at her over their shoulder. "I never left my clan until six months ago. The Dalish make it a point not to venture too far from our families when we go into heat. We're easy pickings for shemlen that way. If we must, for travel or what have you, we suppress."

Leliana and Wynne shared a guilty look.  
"I figured I would tell someone eventually, but I guess there's no need for that now. I mean, Duncan knew."

"Your Warden commander?" Leliana said, brows wrinkling in confusion. "Alistair said he would never recruit an Omega."

"I was a special circumstance," Ara'n said with a shrug, "He was the one who got me suppressants for the first time around."

“That was...very kind of him.”

“Eh, he was Beta so it’s not like it affected him at all. Didn’t want to have to beat the Alphas away from me the whole way to Ostagar, more like,” Ara’n gave a wicked chuckle at the thought, “or didn’t want me distracting everyone on the battlefield. I think I was the only Omega there, if I’m honest. Aside from you, Wynne.”“

It is fascinating to me.”

All three of them jumped, having forgotten Zevran was there.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding it at all as he came to sit on the other side of Ara’n. “It is just...how protective you Fereldans are of your Omegas...it's a bit of culture shock for me."

“Oh? Are Antivans so different?” Leliana asked.

“Among the aristocracy? No. Among the lower classes, many do not hesitate to call on Omegas for help with a rut or herding their children. The Crows would never hesitate recruiting them either.”

“Really?” Ara’n, as interested as ever when Zevran deigned to talk about his guild, turned more to face him.

“Well, part of it is because we are recruited long before we are of presenting age," Zevran admitted, in that casual tone of his when discussing something so horrifying, "even so, there is much an Omega can get away with that Alphas, or even Betas, cannot. Trickier targets tend to be assigned to them. Ones that require more... _delicate_ maneuvering, you understand.”

“Nice to know _someone_ out there appreciates us,” Ara'n said.

“Hey, we appreciate Omegas here,” Leliana said, affronted.

“Yeah, as helpless broodmares.”

“That’s not true.”

“Sure.”

“What you are capable of is the highest and most honorable of tasks. It is only right you are preserved and perform such a task as often as possible,” Sten cut in, crossing the clearing to stand just before them.

“Uh, yeah, that’s fancy talk for ‘shut up and have more babies I don’t have to raise’. Love that one. Hey, Sten, how about when I actually want your kernels of wisdom about something you never have to endure, I’ll moan real loud and Omega-like. That work for ya, big guy?”

Sten, to his credit, blushed deeply and turned to go chat with Bodahn who was setting up dinner for him and Sandal a little distance away. Zevran and Leliana both laughed at his abrupt retreat.

“Uh huh. Everyone’s an _expert_ until they’re called on how little they actually know about anything.” Ara’n snorted, rolling their eyes skyward.

After almost an hour with the others still not returned, dodging offers of food and insistence they rest from Leliana and Wynne, Ara'n was starting to get impatient again.

“I should have gone and got my own bird. They’re taking _forever_ ," they whined.

“Do you always crave pheasant during your heats?” Leliana asked, in an attempt to distract them.

“I mostly crave Ashalle’s pheasant stew. She used to make it for me when I first started having the blighted things.”

“Ashalle...she is your godmother, correct?”

“Aye. _Loads_ better than my birth one from what I hear tell, so—”

“I got one!” came a shout from where the Alphas had gone into the forest. A moment later, Alistair came skidding into the view. A pheasant did indeed hang limply in his hand, ragged and rather runty for the season, but it was enough for Ara’n. Before they could move to collect it, however, Alistair was in front of them. He held it up for their inspection and grinned widely, looking somewhat unhinged.

“This is what you wanted, right? _I_ got it for you,” he panted, “I got it _first_.”

“I can see that. You know it wasn’t a competition or anything, right?”

As Alistair’s face fell a bit, Leliana leaned into Ara’n’s side and whispered,

“Try, 'This _is_ what I wanted. Thank you, Alistair.'”

Ara’n repeated the words, woodenly, and watched with mounting mortification as the man practically glowed at the praise. They took the bird from him to start preparing it and heard a familiar string of curses heading their way.

“—cking nug-sucking, long-legged, mama’s boy— _hey_!”

Oghren was back and looking the worse for wear, like he had rolled around on the forest floor _after_ falling in the river and being attacked by a particularly ornery squirrel.

“I got one _before_ you did,” Alistair called over to him, looking smug. Ara’n wanted to slap the expression off his face with the pheasant.

“That’s ‘cause you _cheated_ , you spoiled, sky-swilling shit.”

“It’s not cheating if I _saw_ it first.”

“So that was you two I heard, scuffling about in the brush? Were you trying to _frighten_ the poor thing to death rather than kill it humanely?”

Morrigan stepped up beside Oghren, three plump pheasants hanging from her staff by their tied feet. She looked as unruffled as ever, but her gaze met Ara’n’s and she gifted them a rare smile.

“If you would like something more substantial, I brought plenty I would be willing to share,” she informed them, earning groans from both Alistair and Oghren.

“Okay, now _that_ is unfair,” Alistair whined.

“I told you that _one_ was pathetic.”

“So you go and show off with your fancy, glowy stick, huh? Where’s the honor in that?”

“Do not blame me that your species is not nearly as gifted with magic, dwarf.”

“Dwarves don’t _need_ —”

“Oi, that’s _enough!_ ”

The entire campsite fell silent, its occupants staring at the Dalish elf who was normally all jokes and innuendos standing, enraged, in the center.

“You are all acting utterly fuckin ridiculous. See, _this_ ,” they gestured to the three Alphas standing frozen before them, “is why I didn’t tell anyone I’m an Omega. I don’t want to be treated like something to be fought over. Like...like I’m incapable of doing things for myself. You're no better than the Alphas in my clan. By the Dread Wolf, I don’t need my friends and comrades acting like _suitors_ and Nanny Omegas around me.”

Guilt made a home on every face but Shale and Zevran's as they spoke. Alistair, expression reminiscent of a kicked puppy, quietly said,

“We...we _weren’t_ doing that. Were we?”

“You were,” Wynne told him with a sigh, "I am being a little overprotective, aren't I?"

“We both are,” Leliana said, looking sheepish.

“My heat should last for two more days,” Ara’n said, tossing the pheasant they held back at Alistair, who only just caught it before it hit him in the face. “I won’t be spending the rest of it with anyone except _my dog_. C’mon, Ban’aar. You at least act civilized.”

The mabari ‘whuffed’ and followed her master back to the tent, docked tail wagging.

“What about these birds?” Oghren called after them, sounding gruffly disappointed.

“Keep them. I’ve lost my appetite.”

Every Alpha visibly drooped as Ara’n and Ban’aar vanished into their tent, where they stayed for the remainder of the day.

* * *

When Ban’aar lifted her head to growl at whoever was approaching, Ara’n briefly entertained the idea of allowing her to tear their leg off before laying their hand down between her ears and scruffing them, shushing her gently. They were still peeved about the party’s behavior that afternoon, but they also knew they couldn’t fight the archdemon alone. It didn't stop them being petty, however.

“I swear if you’ve come to start waxing poetic about my eyes or some shite, I’m going to let Ban’aar eat you,” they mumbled against their arm, not turning to face the tent flap when they felt it open behind them.

“I...owe you an apology.”

Alistair didn’t come any closer once inside but it was not a big tent. Ara’n could practically smell the nervousness rolling off the young Alpha in waves and they peered over their shoulder at him, raising a brow.

“Can...is it okay if I sit down?”

Ara’n grunted and turned away again, still petting Ban’aar as they did so.

“Might as well. You look like you’re going to faint just being near me any second now,” they said, tone bitter even to their own ears.

“Right.”

They heard him settle himself a proper distance back, clearing his throat before he spoke again,

“I can’t speak for the others or even for all Alphas, but I’m sorry for being so, well, Alpha-y earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Or make you think I don’t respect you as a comrade in arms. Of course I do. I just....it’s not something I’m used to.”

“What, respecting Omegas?” Ara’n asked.

“No! No, working alongside you like this. Omegas are just not fighters where I come from, Ara’n. As far as I knew, the Wardens _never_ conscripted them and before you say anything, it’s not because we think you’re weak,” Alistair told them, sounding genuine rather than snarky for a change. “It’s the darkspawn. The Joining...it affects Omegas differently. Makes you mostly incompatible with anyone else but them. Even if you manage to have children with someone, they won’t be normal. Not with the taint in your blood.”

Ara’n listened to him with a mix of mounting regret and horror. Stuffing their emotions down deep before they could do something embarrassing like cry, they simply said,

“It’s not like I could return to my clan anyway.”

“Well, yeah, but you see why we can’t just let Omegas join the Wardens in large numbers? We would never prevent our own extinction that way.”

“Yeah, I get it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Hey, you...you are easily the bravest, scariest Omega I know. I mean that,” Alistair said, “but even you have to admit that it’s nice sometimes.”

“What’s nice?”

“Having people fuss over you. It just shows they care.”

That had Ara’n sitting up and turning to meet his eyes, their own narrowed.

"You really believe that? That _caring_ is what I take issue with?"

"Is...it...not?" Alistair asked, growing nervousness causing him to look anywhere but at them.

"No. It isn't." Ara'n said flatly, ear tips twitching in mounting annoyance. "I take issue with all of the survival and fighting skills I have spent years learning and honing being brushed aside simply because you know I can bear children now. In my clan-Elgar'nan, in any Dalish clan- we are not seen or treated as so delicate we can't even _hunt_ and our numbers are far fewer than shemlen. Omegas are expected to participate and contribute just as any Beta or Alpha would. We can't afford to wait on everyone going through a heat, hand and foot, and we certainly _aren't_ expected to spend the majority of it on our backs for whatever Alpha brings the nicest kill back home either."

Alistair's gaze was even more guilty than before when Ara'n finished. He sighed and said,

"I do take your point even if I didn't think of it that way. I mean, I kind of acted without really thinking. I just... _had_ to get you a pheasant, y'know?"

Ara'n raised a brow and shared a disbelieving look with Ban'aar.

"Really. I wanted you to have it. Not because of...you know, _that_ . I just...I see you as family now, I think?" Alistair said, picking at the fraying knee of his breeches, "I feel _responsible_ for you. Like an older brother or something. Does...does that make sense?"

Ara'n could admit it did even if it still made their hackles raise a bit. It was more out of habit than distrust, though. Growing up with as close of a family as they had, it did make sense. They would laugh themselves silly that it was coming from a shem if it were anyone else, if they were being completely honest.

"I...appreciate the sentiment, I guess," they said carefully. "Don't feel like you have to change the way you interact with me now that you know. I can take care of myself. You know that."

Alistair nodded, a sheepish smile making its home on his face.

"I do. I really do. I'm sorry and I'll try to keep it in check in the future. No promises, but just let me know if I'm being...you know." he said.

"Oh, I definitely will. Ban'aar will too, won't you, lethallan?"

Ban'aar gave a soft whine and licked their chin, tail stump wiggling.

"She'll be a lot meaner about it, though, so watch out."

She growled low at Alistair to accentuate the point. He lifted up his hands in placating surrender.

"Okay, okay! No need to get bitey," Alistair said. When the mabari relented, he let out a sigh and slowly got to his feet. "Wynne is asking if you'll let her come in to at least give you some more tonic before you...ah...before the heat gets bad again."

"I'll think about it," Ara'n said with a shrug, "I mean, I get a bit crampy and needy without it, but as long as you Alphas can control yourselves I think I can manage just fine with puppy cuddles and sleep." 

"I will let her know. At least let her bring you some dinner, yeah?"

"Aww, will you worry if I don't?" Ara'n teased him, lying back down.

"Yes."

The bluntness of his answer made the Dalish snort, but they waved him off with assurances they would accept whatever they had managed with the pheasants that evening. They didn't miss the wide grin Alistair gave them for it as he left either.

  
  
  



End file.
